


The problem with aliens

by Questioning_TrashCan



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drug Abuse, Drug Use, M/M, Sollux is a troll but everyone else is human, Underage Drinking, Violence, heavy stuff later on but the first few chapters are tame, stranded on earth, trolls who can't swim, will tag as i update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-10-11 19:04:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10471953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Questioning_TrashCan/pseuds/Questioning_TrashCan
Summary: Happy birthday, Jade! <3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpotidSalamango](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpotidSalamango/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Jade! <3

You’re fucked.

It’s five minutes into your third smoke of the night that you realize it, leaning against the back of your door in your bedroom. The light in your bathroom is still on, but the door’s only open a crack. Save the moonlight drifting in from the window just across from you, you wouldn’t be able to see anything.

You’re completely fucked.

Alright, that’s established. So what’s your plan? Stay and try to work it out?

You sigh at the idea, putting out the cigarette in your hand. That’s not going to work. If it would, you’d be all over it, you’d be home free. Fuck, you’d be happy. But four years hasn’t changed jack fucking shit. You wonder if you could build a time machine, go back and fix this fucking mess. Nah.

Alright, plan B.

Sneak out.

You don’t like that one either, but if you want to avoid the problem instead of talking it out (what you’re known for at this point), then you’re going to go for it.

Your overnight bag is sitting in the middle of your room, surrounded by scattered clothes you haven’t washed in weeks and other random items that somehow ended up on your floor. You didn’t even know you had some of them. Where did you get that slipper from?

You sigh again, breath catching in your throat and causing a hacking cough to tear through your chest. You’re a little bit suspicious that you have lung cancer. Or at least, are in the running for it.

It’s kinda hot tonight, but you’re still wearing the same jeans and three shirts that you always wear. Kanaya called it a fashion thing, and a couple kids called you emo for it, but like you give a fuck. You don’t care about Kanaya, and you don’t know those kids. Besides, what do they know?

You sigh a third time, tired. It’s the middle of the night and here you are with a zip-lock bag full of coke, a pack of smokes and two days’ worth of clothing, ready to sneak out and not come back. You’ll go to Gamzee’s. The dude’s always happy to have you around. Sometimes you even think he might be in love with you, but you can’t really be sure. And you don’t want to push it until you know how you feel yourself.

Your name is Karkat Vantas. You’re high as balls, and you’re sneaking out to live in a den of criminals because you’re a fuck up.

Something stops you when you pull the window up, one leg dangling off the edge. A crash. A hideous symphony of screeching metal that smelled of burning plastic – nothing that can be created from simply dropping something downstairs. This was a vicious assault on your eardrums and when you look up, the thing is way too bright to look at and you’re momentarily blinded.

When it lands, it shakes the ground a little and you can feel the shockwave even from your perch on the window. Your house faces the way it was coming from and your room was at the front of the house, so it was impossible to see where it landed. All you know is that if you want to get going, you have to go /now/. That crash was sure to have woken up Kris and Kankri, if not the entire fucking neighbourhood.

So you swing your other leg over the edge and drop to the ground, sticking the landing and dashing off into the woods behind your house. Nobody really goes this way, there’s no path or anything. It’s a shorter walk to go on the street to Gamzee’s house, but Kris would definitely look for you that way once he notices you’re missing.

You can’t help but wonder just what the fuck you’re doing.

You slow your steps once you’re out of range for anyone to spot you, and when you see a glow in between the trees, you realize that whatever landed just before, landed here. You’re kinda scared, but also kinda excited at the prospect. It was probably just a meteor, but you don’t know. It could’ve been an alien. In which case, you don’t think it’s wise to check it out while your high is still wearing off.

But you’ve got a good six hours until sunrise. It should be fine as long as you stay out of sight. There’s a lot of shrubbery around, so it’s easy to do that. Creeping closer to the burning shuttle is a different story. Before you can really register anything, you see a figure dash from the wreckage into the bushes in the direction of Gamzee’s house. Either a runaway kid like you, or an alien. You think it’s the latter, because you seem to remember seeing horns on the thing’s head. 

You wonder if you should just make a break for it. The fire department and cops will probably be here soon, and you can’t risk getting found out. You’ve got drugs in you backpack and a criminal record that doesn’t need an update. How much would it fucking suck to get discovered five minutes from home? You aren’t _that_ much of a failure.

Before you have a chance to consider anything else, you feel something pounce on you, one hand wrapping tightly around your mouth to keep you quiet while the other held something to your head. Your instincts tell you it’s a gun, but you hear a slow, high-pitched mechanical whine that makes you think it’s something more advanced. Maybe an alien gun. No shit, dumb fuck. If this thing is capable of space travel from a planet outside your solar system, then it makes sense it’d have a fucking ray gun.

You can feel the person breathing down your neck as it said something. Or, you think it’s attempting language. It’s just clicks and growls.

 _It’s definitely an alien_ , you decide.

You try to talk back, to tell it you don’t speak horned beast, but its grip tightened. Once it decides the coast is clear, it lowers the weapon against your head and lets go of your mouth. You’re tempted to get up and run instantly, but then you think that would be a bad idea. It obviously doesn’t want to kill you if it let you go, so you turn slowly to face it.

The first thing you notice is its skin. It’s dark, especially in this light, but not grandpa-dark. No, this thing’s skin was grey. You wonder if that’s paint for a second, then you scold yourself about how fucking stupid that is. Why would an alien paint itself grey and crash land on your planet? Whatever. It’s trying to talk to you again.

“I don’t… I don’t speak your language.” It raises an eyebrow, then frown for a moment as if it’s thinking. You think it’s male, it looks male. But then again, it is an alien.

“English?” It asks, and then it’s your turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah… What are you?”

English obviously isn’t its first language, but it doesn’t seem to be having that much trouble. “Sollux Captor, helmsman.” You don’t know what the fuck he just said, but you nod anyway. He’s the one with the weapons. You’re a little intimidated by his obviously very sharp teeth, too. 

“My name is Karkat,” you say slowly.

He snarls. “I can speak English, don’t patronize me.”

“Sorry.” You hold up your hands in defense, still a little shaken.

“Where am I?” He looks equally scared as he does angry, and some sort of radio-like device strapped to his hip is blaring with the same distorted clicks and growls that he was speaking in before. Overall, he appeared pretty calm until you heard sirens blaring. Police and firetruck sirens.

Shit, this is going to be a long night.

You go absolutely still, every muscle rigid. “We have to get out of here,” you insist, grabbing his wrist. Fear is a bitch and it kicks you into action pretty quickly. If the alien hadn’t had a weapon, you might’ve left him there. But he does, so you didn’t. He seemed to catch wind of the situation though, and runs with you the rest of the way to Gamzee’s house. 

Thankfully, no one caught you on the way there.

The alien seemed sluggish and slow, and you think he might’ve been in space for too long – the gravity of Earth must be weighing down on him. Or maybe he’s just tired? Fuck if you know.

You had another thought while you were running – what if there’s more? This one seemed to be alone, he didn’t jump back into his burning ship to save anyone – but what if there’s more coming? And fuck, what is Highness gonna say about this?

That was what you called Gamzee’s Dad. It’s not some kinky nickname, it’s just the simple fact that he named his first son, Kurloz after himself because he’s a narcissistic shit. That makes it annoying to tell them apart, so it’s either calling him by his street name (The Grand Highblood – spawned from an in joke with his high school friends) or shorten it to Highness. You mostly just avoid addressing him by name because they’re all weird. And you can’t call him “Gamzee’s Dad” either, that’s fucking weirder.

Besides the point! You have an alien trailing after you!

It’s usually a twenty-minute walk from your house to Gamzee’s on the street, and half an hour through the forest. But with these setbacks, it might be forty minutes still before you see him.

Your thoughts drift back to the alien as you slow your pace, just walking now. Gotta keep your cool, you know. You’re surprised he breathes oxygen. You guess this is your proof that there’s a life-supporting planet out there, and you’re still buzzing a bit. There’s a fucking alien right behind you, and it’s not telling you to take him to your leader or trying to kidnap you for probing.

When he realizes that everything is calm again, he unclips the device on his hip and raises it to his mouth, speaking into it in that same odd language. No answer, just static. He speaks again. No answer. He bangs the device against the heel of his hand and shouts angrily into it. Still no answer. He sighs heavily and says something else, clipping the device back to his hip when he again, receives no answer.

You realize you have no idea what he’s going through. He’s stranded here, sure, but that’s all you know. You wonder if he has friends or family – if he’s a runaway like you. You wonder how ridiculously advanced his race must be if he can just steal a ship and run off to another planet like it’s fucking nothing. You look back at him a few times. Maybe he was a hostage and escaped on that ship.

He’s looking at the trees and shrubbery like he’s never seen a fucking plant. You might’ve laughed at it if the situation weren’t so bizarre. 

“Are there more of you?” It asks.

You almost snicker. “More than the planet can sustain. I could ask you the same thing.”

“Not here,” he assured. That was a relief. “My radio’s broken, I can’t contact anyone.” Well, that sucks for him. Now he can’t get home. But, good for humans, you suppose. Now they don’t have to deal with the threat of an alien invasion.

That crash it probably going to be on the news tomorrow.

“We’re gonna have to stay here for a bit, let things calm down, yeah?” You’re still very nervous about his gun, and you think he knows because you can see the corners of his mouth tugging up. “Let’s go to the lake. It’s far enough in the forest that we won’t be seen.”

“Is your whole planet filled with vegetation like this?” You shake your head. The question strikes you as a bit odd, but then again he might just be here to study plants. Aliens, man. 

“Most of its just salt water.” He nods, still trailing along behind you. His ears are pointed like an elf’s, and the tips are split into two. They’re twitching like he’s nervous. Though you don’t see a tall lanky alien with superior weapons that could probably kill you being nervous around you, a chubby asshole on his way to his only friend’s house for the physical comfort that he rejects from everyone else.

It’s not long before you reach the river, and you kind of want to jump in. The water has always been clear and it’s flowing smoothly against the rocky bank. You swam here as a kid with Kankri. Before you got stung by that bee by the trees and Kris decided it was better to just go to the pool. You objected, but you haven’t been swimming here since. 

You sit by the water, pulling your knees to your chest and hugging them. Sollux sits beside you, unclipping his radio from his hip and speaking into it again. He tosses it in the water angrily when he doesn’t get a response.

“Oh good job, just leave even more evidence lying around. Fan-fucking-tastic.” Usually you wouldn’t think anything of making a comment like that, but his snarl makes you think that maybe you should be a bit more careful. After all, it’s not like he threw his gun away. He definitely still has that. You can see it strapped to his thigh.

You don’t intend to stare, but you realize then just how fucking skinny he is. You can see his ribs through the skin-tight suit (it’s black with a yellow marking on it. You think it’s the Gemini zodiac but you’re not sure. It’s not like you got a good look at it). You wonder if that’s normal for his kind and if you’re the odd one out for carrying a bit of extra weight.

You’re probably both the odd ones out in this situation.

Without warning, he gets up and jumps into the water. He surfaces, trying to reach the bank as he coughs and splutters and you wonder if he’s really all that if he can’t fucking swim.


	2. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat was in seventh grade when he met Gamzee. That makes it harder to pin all of Karkat’s fuck ups on the reject, because Karkat’s fuck ups started before Gamzee appeared.
> 
> Fuck up number one: Kindergarten.
> 
> Actually, kindergarten was fine. He had a heap of friends, he was a sweet child. Aside from their height difference, you couldn’t tell him apart from his brother. They answered in unison. They said please and thank you, and they played together without argument. Karkat didn’t have a temper; he ate his vegetables and went to bed on time. He was practically a godsend.  
> The problem arose when Kindergarten ended. Like a switch, he changed and became the handful that toddlerhood promised Kristopher and never delivered. 
> 
> But a thousand times worse.

The years passed quickly for everyone – you most of all. You were more just breezing through it, trying to enjoy yourself a little bit despite Kris breathing down your neck and teachers begging you to pay attention in class. Your grades are horrendous, so you don’t blame them. But it’s just so goddamn boring.

You don’t call Kris ‘Dad’. You never did. It feels weird, even if he is literally your Dad and everyone else calls their Dads ‘Dad’. 

Sixth grade ended just as lamely as all the other years did, with a farewell party in which you got put in the corner because you’d been a bad kid. You don’t care, you don’t have any friends in the class and parties are fucking stupid. What are they celebrating, anyway?

Probably not being in your class next year.

Kris grounded you for most of the break (which you didn’t mind because you never go anywhere) and then grade seven was here. Last year of elementary. You couldn’t wait to get out of this fucking trash heap of a school – if high school didn’t turn out any better, you’re probably gonna start skipping. That’s what big kids do, right?

Nepeta says bad kids skip. 

Oh, right. Fuck up number two: Nepeta.

She’s been in your class since kindergarten and she’s the only one who still talks to you. This is why you don’t have friends you think, because this cat-obsessed maniac is always hanging around you. You told her to go fuck herself once, and she just ran off. You felt bad for a moment, and then went on with your day.

She came back again the next day, so it’s not like you scarred her for life or anything. A few weeks later, she asked if you wanted to be her boyfriend. You said no, because you don’t like her, and she cried. 

You didn’t really know how to deal with that (despite being very knowledgeable in the area of romance and dealing with related issues thanks to your movies), and you didn’t have time to do anything anyway before this big beefy kid came over, looking as threatening as ever. Equius was just a sweaty kid who always has a towel around his neck and is hanging around in the shadows.

You mean that figuratively, of course. 

He doesn’t… Literally hide in shadows. Does he? He's a big kid, you'd think you'd notice him.

Whatever. Equius came over and steered her away before you had a chance to say anything and that was that. She didn’t talk to you again after that. Hell, why are you still hung up on it? She probably didn’t even like you, not really. You were fucking eleven at the time. And eleven-year-old-you is an asshole.

To be fair, present you is also an asshole. And probably future you, too. Every conceivable point-in-time version of you is an insufferable prick, probably.

Seventh grade was apparently the year for new beginnings or some shit, because suddenly everybody was saying hi and trying to be your friend. You blew them all off with a “fuck off”. All except one.

Fuck up number three and possibly the most irreconcilably bullshitty event of your life: Gamzee Makara.

You remember him saying “here, motherfucker” when the teacher called his name, and you gained a sort of respect for him. Nobody but you cusses at the teacher, so the class went into whispers as the teacher told him off and you stared. He sat right across from you, near the back. But you were lucky, you got there first and took a seat in the actual back row. It was only a matter of time, tantrums and cussing before you got moved to the front, though.

For now, you were going to enjoy it.

When the teacher called your name, you groaned. “Are you fucking blind, lady? Thought you knew my face by now.” That got a few giggles from the girls in the front row, and Gamzee turned around to take a look at you. That was what you planned in the first place. Get him to notice you the same way you noticed him.

At break, he met you at the door and slung an arm around you. You immediately pushed it off, not used to or welcoming to the touch. You don’t get shown very much affection, so his immediate ones kinda put you off. Until you started talking, and you realized what a cool guy he is. He’s got a whole bunch of expensive video games at home that a lot of other kids don’t have, and he says he’s got some “pretty dope ass beats”. That part’s not as cool as the video games, but you listen to his shitty raps and laugh.

You expect the friendship to last like, two days, but two years are gone before you can even blink and then you’re in grade nine, sleeping over at Gamzee’s house every other night. It’s only a thirty-minute trek through the forest behind your house, so it’s not terribly far. And Kris is happy to see you with a friend, so he lets you go.

You’re fourteen when you try cocaine for the first time.

You could say fuck up number four was trying it, but that was in direct relation to fuck up number three.

Whatever. Fuck up number four: doing coke.

It wasn’t that bad the first time. Your nose burned, but then it started taking its effects and everything was funny for about half an hour. That, combined with the alcohol that Gamzee had to share, had you drunk and high off your ass, and you don’t think you’ve ever quite been that happy since. You watched bad romcoms all night and that was when you started allowing Gamzee to touch you – hugs and trailing his fingers over your skin. Touching your face, burying his fingers in your hair. You don’t let anybody else do that.  
You started leaning more on Gamzee and his family after that, and withdrawing from your own. Kris confronted you about it once, and you fought about it for the ten minutes it took to pack your bag and push past him to run off to Gamzee’s house again.

Of course you doubted your decision – drugs are bad, right?

Then you remind yourself that booze is technically a drug. So are cigarettes. And cough medicine. One kills you if you’re stupid, one kills you slowly via lung cancer. And the other is used in songs too fucking often. But none of them have killed you yet, so you shrug and snort the line on the coffee table of the Makara’s tiny lounge with a smile on your face.  
You think that’s when everything really started going to shit. So yeah, fuck up four was your fault.

You’re in grade eleven now. Or, you would be had you not been expelled. You call it dropping out, because you totally could finish high school if you wanted to. If Kankri could do it, then you could too. You’re a smart kid, schoolwork actually comes easy to you. You just get bored of it so easily and drop it before you get to question three. 

The school had enough of you by that point, anyway. Your attendance was 60% below average, your grades were worse, your behaviour appalling, and there were so many drugs in your locker that they called the police on you. You still feel like you should thank Kris for bailing you out of juvey, but it’s not like that stopped you. You still hang out with Gamzee, drink, smoke, do coke. You tried pot the other day. The high it gives you is a little tamer than what coke does, but it’s still pretty good.

At some point, you realized the hole you’d dug yourself. But that was quickly followed by the realization that it was far too late to go back. You’re sixteen and you’re a teenage disappointment with the Vantas name being disgraced every time you take a breath. 

There’s no way to bring back a smile to Kris’s face without remembering all the times he cried because of you. There’s no way to take back everyone’s words. The teachers call you stupid and lazy. Your peers call you a crack-head. Their parents call you a disgrace and a disappointment. Kankri mutters under his breath sometimes, but you can never make out what he says. 

You don’t think you want to.


	3. Chapter 3

Gamzee’s your role model. He always has been. He always picked you up again when you fell down (one time literally, but you don’t talk about that) and you don’t know where you’d be today without him. Probably still in school, blowing spit balls from the back of class and fighting with teachers.

But then again, maybe if you hadn’t met Gamzee you’d be a totally different person today. Maybe you’d never have tried drugs or cigarettes, or maybe you’d still think you were straight. Maybe you wouldn’t be inclined to save the alien that crash landed and threatened you. 

Maybe you’d go to someone else with the problem. Maybe you’d still talk to Kris like he was your Father. He definitely is, but it doesn’t feel like it. You kind of just avoid each other. This is fine with you. You have Gamzee.

Gamzee, who’s staring at you with a gobsmacked expression as he tries to make sense of the grey boy standing beside you at two in the morning. You would’ve just used your key to get you in, but you don’t think any of them would appreciate being woken like that to see a horned alien slinking around behind you like he fucking owned the place. Instead you’re blessed with an ugly snarl on none other than the youngest Makara’s face. He looks tired and dishevelled and ready to stab someone.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Fishing Sollux from the water wasn’t fun. He was intent on getting his little radio back, but lost his gun in the process so now he doesn’t have either. Convenient for you. Now you could just leave him there, right? Wrong. 

You have this annoying little thing called empathy that nags you to help him regardless of threat.

Once you’d gotten him out, he pulled his knees to his chest and huddled into himself, cold and wet, and winced at something, bringing his hand up to rub his horn. This struck you as a bit of an odd gesture. You figured they were like hair or something. Wouldn’t hurt to snip it off, but it would to tug it. Or in this case, no feeling at all unless you banged it on something. Guess they must be pretty sensitive.

You reach a hand out instinctively to overtake the action, rubbing his horn gently in his place. Maybe it’s a trigger to help with headaches, like pinching the bridge of your nose. He seemed to like the attention, a teeny tiny smile spreading over his lips before he realized that you were touching him and he promptly freaked the fuck out, pushing you away and hissing angrily, which sounded more like a growl.

“Shit, I was just trying to help!”

He looked like he was about to shout something back, but swallowed the words and instead bit out a hesitant “thank you.” You’re a little on edge now. He’s quick to react, and violently. You and Gamzee are both going to have to tiptoe around him, but he’d probably murder you in cold blood if you were to leave him here. You should assume the worst to remain safe.

You stand. "Well I'm going. Come along if you want, or stay here and die. I really don't care anymore.” You pick up your backpack, threading your arm through the strap and holding it there as you begin walking again.

He follows you. 

Now you’re both standing at Gamzee’s front porch, dripping wet and shivering. You learned his name on the way here, so you tell Gamzee it. It’s your only way of hoping to convince him to let the alien stay there, treat him as a person instead of, well, an alien.

“This is Sollux,” You gesture to the being beside you. Gamzee frowns and you offer a smile, which he frowns deeper at. “He’s from Alternia,” you continue. Another piece of information you picked up on the way here. “His ship crashed and his radio is broken so he’s kinda stuck on Earth for a bit.”

"Holy shit," he breathes, enunciating every syllable separately. "So you wanna hide an alien here?"

"And myself, for a while. I ran away."

"Shit man. Alright, come in." He steps aside, letting the two of you in. You gesture for Sollux to follow. He does, even if he seems a bit jumpy. You don’t pay him any mind as you instantly go for the couch, dropping your bag at the legs and collapsing on it. You’re tired. Your high is gone, it’s two in the morning, you just saved an alien from the clutches of the government, and you’re tired. You usually sleep on the couch when you stay over anyway, or if you’re feeling especially needy for physical affection, with Gamzee in his bed. You don’t feel that gross tonight, so the couch it is.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and you open your eyes tiredly. “Yes?” You see a shivering, dripping wet Sollux and you realize what he’s after. “There’s towels in the cupboard,” you point to the first cupboard in the hall to your left, near the TV. 

He nodded, then spoke again. “Do you have clothes?”

You sigh. Well, he’s not taking yours. You only have a days’ worth in your backpack, he can have some of Gamzee’s. You tell him to sit tight and dry himself off while you jog upstairs to Gamzee’s room and fish out a black shirt printed with a colourful sugar skull and skinny jeans. The two of them are the same size width-wise, but Gamzee’s a lot taller. The pants might be too long.

You hand the items to Sollux anyway (accompanied by a change of Gamzee’s underwear, too).

You’re not prepared for his reaction, which consists of sniffing the clothes, then shaking his head and pointing to you. You frown. Then you fish out a change of clothes from your bag and hand them too him. He sniffs them, and smiles approvingly.

Fucking weirdo.

You take Gamzee’s clothes instead, though you have to go upstairs again for another pair of pants. Ones that will fit you.

You come back downstairs to see Sollux pulling his pants on and you make a noise of surprise and disgust as you block your view. There were red and blue sparks going off around his horns, but they didn’t seem to be doing anything and you were more disturbed by the fact that he had just changed in the middle of the goddamn room.

Your clothes are so baggy on him, and you wonder why he likes them so much. You collapse on the couch again, pulling a cigarette from your bag and lighting it. The house always smells like smoke anyway, so no one ever really complains. Sollux doesn’t seem to mind it, either.

Sollux bundles up his wet clothes in the towel and put it on the floor, not quite knowing what to do with them. He looked awkward, so you speak to fill the silence. “You tired?” You breathe out a puff of smoke, sinking into the chair further.

Sollux shakes his head as if you’ve just suggested that you go streaking in the park.

“Thought you’d be tired after crash-landing on a foreign planet.” You get out your phone, an idea coming to you. “Speaking of, what was your planet name again?”

“Alternia,” he says slowly. You punch the letters into google, surprised that you actually got a result. The headline boasted 'The War With Alternia; What NASA Isn't Telling Us' and went into this whole spiel about how the ruler of the planet took hundreds of human hostages and took off several decades ago and everyone seems to just have... Forgotten about it. 

Had you been reading this without the context you were given, there would be no way you'd believe it. But sitting next to a creature that matched the same description of the aliens that stole hundreds of humans, it didn't seem so far-fetched. Sollux mentioned on the way here that it was illegal for him to know English, which made you question how he knew it. He said a friend of his who knew it legally, taught him against the law.

You think this war is how their species learned English in the first place.

On the left of the hall, Kurloz emerges from his room, rubbing his face. It’s smeared with facepaint, he hadn’t taken it off before he went to bed. He signed to you.

/Who’s that? Is he staying here?/

“Yeah, picked him up off the streets.”

/What’s with the get-up? Is he in the motherfucking circus?/

“Did you sleep through that crash before?” Kurloz shook his head. “Well that was his ship crashing. He’s an alien.”

/Why’d you bring him here?/

“Where the fuck else was I supposed to put him? I ran away.” You huff, crossing your arms. “Whatever. Go back to bed. Sorry to disturb you, Highness junior.” He sneers at you and retreats to his room.

Gamzee’s the next one to poke his head out, this time from the door on the left of the TV. “Hey alien brother, your bed’s ready.” Sollux glances nervously at you while you’ve got your head buried in the pillow on the couch, then nudges you. You bat him away and Gamzee chuckles.

“Best not to bother Karbro, he gets crabby when he’s tired. Come on, motherfucker.” Sollux shakes his head and tugs your sweater sleeve. "Whatever bro, your funeral. Room's there when you want it." With that, he trudges up the stairs to his room to disappear for the rest of the night.

You close your eyes again. Just as you’re officially comfortable, you feel a tingling at the back of your skull and some sort of energy wraps itself around you. It feels like static electricity, but without the shock. More like the buzz you get after being shocked. It lifts you off the couch and your eyes snap open, going into panic mode. You kick and shout in protest, forgetting for a moment that there are people sleeping in the same house. You stopped when you were set down on a pile of dirty clothes in the corner that the Makaras had stacked there and neglected to wash. It never does get washed. 

Or maybe it does, and the clothes rotate when you’re not here, but you know for a fact that yellow sweater has been there since you were in grade nine at least.

“Just let me fucking sleep,” you groan. He sits down across from you, arms crossed over his legs and staring at the wall. “You go to sleep too,” you insist. “You’re gonna be tired tomorrow otherwise, and we’ve got shit to do.”

“Sleep? Why now? It’s early.” You look at him incredulously for a moment, then realize that he must be nocturnal. 

Instead of being reasonable about it, you groan again. “It’s fucking three AM, go to sleep.”

"That's even worse. The sun went down three hours ago." Fuck, you’re staying on Earth. His planet’s sun cycle is too much to wrap your head around.

“No, the sun went down ten hours ago and it's going to come up in two. Sleep."

“Two?” You crack open an eye to see him staring at you in a confusion you can’t express in words. “How long is night?”

“Twelve hours.” He seems to recognize the concept of hours, which makes the exchange so much easier than it could have ended up being. “You’re nocturnal, right?”

He ignored your question and asked about something else. “Your day is short. That is why there is so many plants.”

“I’m not a botanist, but I guess?”

He scoots closer and you sit up, sliding to the ground instead of sitting on top of the dirty clothes pile. “Does sun not burn?”

“Not me.” Your skin is brown by heritage, so your experience with sunburn is very minimal. You don’t know how susceptible Sollux is to sunburn, but you guess you’ll find out tomorrow.

He relaxes against the foot of the bed, relaxing. That’s the last thing you remember before waking in the morning in the same position, with Sollux curled up on the other side of the pile. You check the time on your phone, which boasts your new record of seven hours in one go. You must’ve been tired.

Your stomach grumbles and you make note of the toasty, breakfast-y smell that hangs in the air. You jolt when you feel a hand on your shoulder. It’s Sollux, and he looks alarmed.

“Did you even get any sleep last night?”

He shakes his head. His horns are sparking again with the same red and blue light, but it looked like it was bugging him now. “Can’t sleep,” he claims. “Too hard to.”

"Well what's the problem? Gamzee gave you the spare room, you can just sleep in here." Sollux is becoming more and more of a hassle and you wonder why you don’t just kick him out. But you take one look at his pitiful fucking face and realize you can’t.

Stupid fucking empathy.

"Mind telling me what the problem is? I might be able to help, you know." He looks almost cute like this, wearing a face of despair. 

He shook his head lightly before mumbling. "My head hurts. It always does."

You don’t know exactly what compels you to try again, but you lift a hand to his horns and rub the bases gently. “This helps, right?” If the river taught you anything, it’s taught you he has weird triggers.

He slumps against you, a low noise starting in his throat as you rub him. It sounds like a purr. Aliens are fucking weird, you decide. “Yeah… That helps…” His eyes are closed and his cheeks are flushed, but they aren’t red, strangely enough. They’re yellow. A greenish tint of yellow because his skin is grey, but yellow nonetheless. Is that the colour of his blood? 

Fucking aliens.

You sigh, growing more confident and ditching the gentleness in favour of rubbing him a bit more roughly. "Are these things like... Pressure points to relieve headaches?"

“Sort of,” he replies lazily, slumping into you so far that his head was resting on your lap. Strangely, you don’t mind it “Just don't rub them too much... And avoid the tips..."

You actually crack a smile despite yourself. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this weirdly relaxed, and you can feel a breeze drifting in from the open window, but it doesn’t match the heat on your face when Sollux purrs. You decide that yes, Sollux is cute, and yes, he deserves this. Poor guy didn’t get any sleep last night.

You continue this for about ten minutes, interrupted only by Gamzee who opened the door in search of his best motherfucking friend, yours truly. "Hey Karbro you- whoa, what the fuck?" He chuckled at the two and raised a brow. "You sure this motherfucker is an alien? Looks more like a cat."

"He's got a headache," you stroke Sollux's hair with your free hand. "And he didn't get any sleep last night. Poor thing’s tired.”

“Okay?” You look up to Gamzee, surprised to see an expression there that you’d only seen once before. It was so rare in fact, that you couldn’t decipher it right away. Anger? Jealousy? You think it might be an odd mixture of both, and you wonder again if he has a crush on you. “… You ready to eat? It’s on the table.”

You take this as your opportunity to nod and let go of Sollux’s horns, tapping his shoulder so he can get up. “You hungry?”

He seemed instantly awake again when you stopped touching him, and he looked… Almost disappointed by it? Understandable, poor guy’s had no sleep. He nodded, regardless.

Kurloz had make breakfast, he usually does all the cooking around here. With Gamzee too lazy and Highness too busy, he’s the only one left to provide them with some means of nutrition. Speaking of Highness, the guy was away on a ‘business trip’, which usually means camping out at the popular trailer parks or tourist spots to sell drugs or himself. Usual shit.

Sollux didn’t freak out at anything in the kitchen, which you suppose is a good thing. Maybe your cultures aren’t that far apart in the way of house décor. Or maybe he’s just being nice and not saying anything even though he thinks it’s weird.

With a sigh, Sollux turns his attention to the plate of food Kurloz had set down before him, but he didn't touch it. He looks lost in thought, stiff as a board and not moving. You kind of wish you knew what he was thinking.

But then you got given a plate of bacon and eggs, wolfing it down after thanking Kurloz. He’s a great cook, and you don’t know what he does differently, but his eggs are fucking amazing. Just as you get up for seconds, the front door opens and closes, signalling that Highness is home.

You kind of hate calling him Highness. It’s weird, and anyone who doesn’t know the story accuses you of sleeping with the guy and that it’s your pet name for him or some equally moronic shit, but calling him anything else is fucking weirder.

"Welcome back, motherfucker," Gamzee called from his place at the table, a lazy smile on his face. "Breakfast is on the table if you want it.”

Sollux looked uncomfortable for most of the meal that he wasn’t eating, but he promptly flipped the fuck out when he saw Highness in the doorway. You almost drop your plate in surprise at the sudden movement, sighing when you realized it was just Sollux being weird again.

“You hidin’ somethin’ in here?” Highness asks, and you’re quick to deny it.

“What? No. Fucker’s hiding himself.” You set your plate down on the bench and reach under the table to grab Sollux’s arm, pulling him out from underneath it. “So I’m pretty sure you heard that crash last night, all the coke in the world wouldn’t get you high enough that you wouldn’t, well, turns out it was an alien ship. And this guy,” you tug Sollux into view with a considerable struggle, before he crawls under the table again. “Is the alien. His ship was destroyed though, so he kind of doesn’t have anywhere to go.”

Highness pauses for a moment, frowning as he crosses his arms. “So how long’s he stayin’ for?”

You have a feeling he’s not going to like the answer, but lying to him would just make things worse. “Until he can get home. Which could probably take years.”

“So you’re dumpin’ an alien on me? Just keep the motherfucker at your house.”

You tense at that, shaking your head. Your hands suddenly feel clammy and you wipe them casually on your pants. “I’m staying too.”

He laughed at that, taking his seat at the head of the table. Kurloz passed him a plate. "Finally got sick of your old man, huh? Well you're welcome here. And so's that... Thing. Do he got a motherfuckin' name or what?"

You pull Sollux out from under the table again, and he stays out this time, probably because Highness is seated now. Sollux takes his own seat and you tell him to introduce himself, tell him it’s okay. He shakes his head viciously, mumbling to himself in his native language. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. Or was looking death right in the face, tempting it to take him. It’s a little chilling.

“Sorry,” you tell Highness. “He gets scared easily.”

“I get that a lot.” He smiles, showing off his teeth that have always seemed a little too big and a little too sharp to be human.

Sollux stands up sharply, hiding behind you, and you sigh, leading him out into the lounge room to give him another one of his weird horn-jobs to calm him down. “Just relax. He’s not going to hurt you, okay?”

His hands came up to grab yours, holding them tight. He's shaking. "KK, he's going to kill me- I'm na-I’m not supposed to be here, highbloods kill lowbloods we're not supposed to be this class- we're not supposed to be this close to them unless we're their royal servant and I'm not his servant he's going to kill me I can feel it. I'm a lowblood KK, I don't belong here-" His words were frantic and his whole body was trembling. It strangely hurt you to see him like this, even if you had no idea what he was talking about.

Then it suddenly made sense, and you snickered. Probably not the best move, laughing in the face of an alien’s fear, but it was too funny. "Sollux, no, fuck - that's just his street name. Please relax."

Sollux didn’t relax.

He pulled quickly away from your touch, stumbling back towards the coffee table, his eyes flickering everywhere, looking for some escape. Before you could warn him, he tripped on a discarded bottle on the floor and fell ass first into the coffee table, shattering the glass. Highness would not be happy about that. Some larger shards stayed stuck to the corners of the table, leaving a long cut on Sollux’s arm that bled heavily. At least, you think that’s blood. It’s… Yellow.

He squirmed out from the hole in the glass with some difficulty, holding his arm tightly as Highness stepped into the room, a glare resting on his brows. You assure him that you’ve got it under control, that you just need the first aid kit, and he ducks back into the kitchen to get it. Once you have it in your arms, you sit Sollux down on the couch to clean his wound and bandage him up carefully, not bothering to say anything. Sollux isn’t comforted by words, you’ve noticed.

He was equally silent, and only said something when you’d finished bandaging him up and were sitting in awkward quietness. "Thank you and I'm sorry."

You nod, reaching out to pet his head, ruffling his hair. It was short, so it stood on end. "You're okay. Mind telling me what happened, though? I mean I know he looks scary, but that was a little intense."

He stared at the bandages around his arm as he spoke. "On my planet, everyone is split by blood colour. The lowest are mutants and the highest are pure-bloods. They are called highbloods. Lowbloods are slaves to highbloods. We live and go by their rule. Doesn't matter what they want us to do, we do it because if we don't it costs our life." He paused to sigh. "That man out there looks like a highblood, and he smells like one. So... I freaked out because I thought he was going to kill me for being in his hive."

“That means something entirely different to me,” you shake your head a little in disbelief. That sounds fucking awful. “The Grand Highblood is his street name, it’s an alibis. His real name is Kurloz but I call him Highness so I don’t get him confused with the other Kurloz.” You really think about it for a moment, running your fingers through your hair. “Shit, that sucks. Why the hell do you even want to go back?”

He looked like he was really thinking about it, then he disappointed you with his response. “… It’s my home.” Probably the only reason he could think of.

"It's your home, but you said it yourself. You're a slave there. Granted, you stick out like a sore thumb here but that's nothing foundation and a beanie can't fix." And some contacts.

"I'm technically not a slave." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"So what are you, then?"

"I'm a Helm."

"Aaaaand, what does that mean?"

"I'm a ship pilot. I run the ship and power it as well." He smiled, he seemed proud of himself. "I'm the youngest Helm in all of the fleet.” Holy shit. So this isn’t an average alien, this is a child prodigy alien. Makes sense. They wouldn’t send the dumbass to Earth unless it was for a suicide mission. That begs the question of why Sollux is here. Certainly not for a suicide mission.

"Wait, you power the ship? How do you do that? Does it run on solar power or something?" Doesn’t matter how much of a genius you are, you can only generate static electricity by yourself. Unless… Does that telekinesis thing he has power the ship?

"I'm a psionic user, so I can control energy- well electricity. I power the ship with wires connected to me." Nailed it.

“So you’re a living generator? That’s actually… Pretty cool. Does that take a physical toll?”

Sollux nodded. “My headaches. I have to take medication. I ran out before.”

"Well unless the pharmacy down the road makes the same shit your doctors do, I don't think those will last very long. How much does the horn-rubbing thing help?"

"It helps more than the medication does, but I shouldn't use it too much." He looks awkward now, blushy even. Without the blush. Except it is there, his cheeks are darker. They’re just… Yellow. You suppose the warmer colours must be lowbloods, then.

“What? Why not?”

“Because…” He looks so awkward. “I just shouldn’t.”

You nod, not wanting to push it and anger him. That probably wouldn’t be good. So you steer the conversation somewhere else.

“So how old are you, exactly? You said you were the youngest helm.”

"Oh I'm about eight and a half sweeps old." He seems happy you changed the topic. "I'm only a helm because I can control my psionics well, plus FF helped me out a bit."

“What’s a sweep?” It’s expected there will be a few cultural barriers, but you didn’t expect units of time to be one of them, especially if he’s familiar with the concept of hours and minutes.

"Oh, I told Kurloz what they were. We figured out its about two years on this planet. So two of your years and a bit equals one sweep."

You nod. Thank god Kurloz already figured this out. “So you’d be seventeen years old, then.”

"Uh, yeah I guess that'd be right. I did spend two sweeps puptating though."

You frowned at that. "Alright, I'm gonna leave that question for another time." You snicker a little. "You wanna go back to the kitchen and finish eating?"

He hummed as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. He looked like he’s about to pass out, but he nods and gets up anyway.

You walk with him back to the kitchen. Kurloz had already cleaned up the mess that Sollux had caused, and he thanked him for it. Gamzee stole the couch that you’d patched Sollux up on and he was smoking while the TV blared. Highness was eating at the head of the table and Kurloz was doing dishes. Once Sollux had figured out the food wasn’t poison, he dug in hungrily. He’s been living in a spaceship for fuck knows how long, it must’ve been ages since he’s had some actual fucking food.

Once you’re finished and washed up, you go to the lounge room for a smoke, too. 

You could barely hear the conversation in the kitchen from here, but you could feel the five layers of awkwardness. You ignore it by snuggling into Gamzee’s embrace.

He blows a circle of smoke into the air and you try to replicate it without much success. You don’t know any smoke tricks except the one where it gets stuck in your throat and you start hacking up your lungs. You don’t do it now, because everything is peaceful, and you’re not breathing that deeply.

You are thinking deeply, though. About home.

Not /your/ home, but home. What it can mean to people, and you decide that your home is here. In Gamzee’s arms with the TV blaring, muted, blurry as your eyes fall shut not from tiredness, but just because you’re so relaxed. Gamzee scratches your head absentmindedly and you smile.

“So what do you, uhh… Do for a living?” You hear Sollux ask from the kitchen, and you snicker a bit, waiting for his answer.

“This and that. I work on the streets.”

“So you’re like a merchant?” That’s fucking priceless. You snort, but hold in your laughter because you want to hear the rest of the conversation.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go with that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I sell drugs, kid.” And himself. He’s not above using his body to get what he wants.

“What? Only highbloods can get drugs.”

There’s a pause so long that you think the conversation just stopped, but then you hear highness talking again. "The last time your kind came to our planet, you stole half our population and made off with them like you were some travellin' circus. Beyond that, we don't have that many relations. We're completely fuckin' different species, and humans all have the same blood colour." You can hear annoyance in his voice, and you shift in Gamzee’s arms. "But to answer your question, I have suppliers. I give them what they want and they give me what I need to sell. Simple as that."

You hear plates clanking as Sollux washes up and you mumble against Gamzee’s skin. “You know, I’ve been fucking up since before I can remember. Even when I gained a sense of self and realized how bad I was fucking myself over, it never stopped.” You’d never said any of this aloud before, but the words were just stumbling out. You don’t even know what caused it. “And there’s always that chance, you know, that chance of maybe fixing it, maybe…” You sigh.

Gamzee snorts. "I don't know what the motherfuck you gonna do, bro. Thought you'd up and get a job or some shit first, but you're up in here bringin' weird shit." He gestured to Sollux who seemed to be staring off in space, sitting in the arm chair at the end of the couch.

"He's not weird shit," you huff. "He's a person. Anyway, I knew I could come here so I didn't think much about it. I'll get a job soon."

"You could always join me and pops," He grins and lolls his head to the side to look down at you.

"Pff. With my education, I think it's my only option anyway. Sounds good to me." I mean, there are worse options.

Gamzee nods and brings a hand down to run it through your hair. After a long few minutes he speaks up, "How much money do you think we can get for selling an alien online?"

"We're not selling him," you say firmly, taking a breath of smoke in before tipping your head back and blowing it out slowly in Gamzee's face. Just to be an ass.

He grumbles, but it doesn’t stop his need to be heard out. "Why the fuck not? It's not like the motherfucker does anythin' for us."

"We're not selling him," you say again, firmer.

“Tell me why not." You’re treading dangerous waters now, and you both know it. You decide to push your luck.

“Because.” You take a long drag. “I said no.”

He huffed, looking up at the ceiling. “I’ll do what I want.” 

Sollux is still staring off into space, not listening, so when you reach up to tangle your fingers in Gamzee’s hair, tug him down and whisper “You’re not fucking selling him” angrily, he doesn’t notice. Gamzee does, though, wincing at how tightly you’re grasping his hair. He let out a low grumble and smacks your hand away. He looks pissed now. 

"Don't you tell me what the fuck to do."

You slump in his arms again, still tired. "You're not selling him. Go suck a dick."

He stuck his tongue out at you, but you don’t see it. "Don't tease me bro."

"I'm not teasing. Literally go suck a dick. I don't care." But you do care, because Gamzee's embrace is far too comfy to get away from.

"Fine." He stands up, sitting you up before he walks to Sollux. He comes up from behind the other and playfully grabbed onto both his larger horns, jerking them back as he laughs. He thinks he’s being funny, but before anything can be registered, Sollux has whirled around and sunk his teeth into Gamzee’s hand.

Gamzee let out a yell and used his free hand to smack Sollux right across his head, losing his balance right after. He fell to the floor, but that didn't help him because it just made Sollux come down with him and tighten his jaw. "You motherfucker! Fuck! Fuck!"

It happened so fast that you were stunned in confusion, but jumped to action when you heard Gamzee’s voice crying out. "Sollux! Sollux, fuck! Stop it!" You jump over the back of the couch, parkour-style, and grab Sollux under his arms, tugging him away from Gamzee. "Fucking hell, let go!"

"Let me go you fuckin' freak!" Gamzee’s hand was bleeding bad, blood oozing out and spilling into Sollux’s mouth, dripping down his chin and dropping onto Gamzee’s shirt underneath you both. "Fuck! Fuck!" He didn't know what else to say or do, so he continued to hit Sollux's head, trying to disorient the other enough to get away.

You gave up tugging at Sollux’s shoulders, hooking your fingers in the corners of his mouth and pulling, trying to open his jaw enough to get his teeth out of Gamzee’s hand. Your mind was racing. What can you do to make him let up? What terrifies him the most?

“I’ll report you to the highbloods!” You threaten loudly.

That causes him to finally let go, your fingers still lodging his jaw open as blood spills out, dripping down his neck and chest. He looks like he’s a vampire and just fed by force. Maybe he is. He looks like a fucking mess.

Gamzee on the other hand pulled his hand close to his chest, taking a moment to breathe before he scrambled up to run off, probably to find Kurloz. He’s the only one that knew anything about first aid.

You, meanwhile, were pissed. Doped up on drugs and angry beyond reason, you pin Sollux against the floor rather roughly. "You're a fucking piece of work, you know that?" He looks scared. Good. "You haven't done shit to help, all you've done is fuck us over. It took like, three tries for you to understand that I was trying to fucking help you that first night, and now you bite my best friend's hand off. He was talking about selling you, you know." You smirk, probably looking a bit more threatening than you really intended. "You'd fetch a nice price. I mean you're an alien, so that's a huge base number. You’re also pretty. And young. Maybe I could find some old, rich pervert and just hand you over for a few mil." 

This isn’t you. You’re not in your body anymore, you don’t feel like yourself. You feel like a projection of yourself, seen through Gamzee’s eyes. 

You don’t know what’s going through your head in the moment before he throws you off with his telekinesis, but it snaps your real self back into your body when you land on the couch, and you wonder if you left it there when you ran to get Sollux off of Gamzee.

Sollux is still standing there when you sit up, staring at you. He’s fearful, regretful, terrified, eyes blown wide like he’s just seen a ghost. 

Maybe he has.

The few seconds when he’s looking at you pass and then he’s gone, slamming the front door behind him at the same time that Highness bursts into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey fun fact this chapter was exactly 6000 words and has been sitting in my folder waiting to be updated for fuck knows how long. 
> 
> idk if this fanfic will ever be finished, it's old and based off an old rp that my girlfriend and i did literally over a year ago, but ill see what kind of support this new chapter gets and then we'll see. I wanna get back into writing.


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